


This is the News the Suppressants Didn't Just Fail

by CelticGHardy



Category: The Following
Genre: Alpha/Omega, M/M, Mpreg, Random people from other fandoms, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2017-12-27 15:42:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelticGHardy/pseuds/CelticGHardy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/948113">This is the feeling of your suppressants failing</a>. It's been a couple of weeks since Ryan helped Mike out.</p><p>Then Mike got kidnapped for Claire's location, and they learn some shocking news.</p><p>Minor crossovers with Criminal Minds, White Collar and The Unusuals.</p><p>One chapter has talk of past sexual assault and plan b use. Warnings for those. Another has a kidnapping. Warning for that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To the End of the Case

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written that much into it, but you guys clamored for it. Here's the first part.
> 
> And sadly, I couldn't alter canon in this one.

Mike had said nothing was going to change between them. In fact, he tried to act the same, if a little dialed down. He went to Parker a few more times for information or questions than Ryan. He wasn't going to cling to the man; he was trying hard not to change anything.

Everyone and everything else changed around him.

Parker didn't, but she was one of the only ones. Two of the alphas that constantly bugged and bullied him toned down their jests. He didn't know why, but he was grateful. Several of the omegas he knew looked at him slightly different. Ryan tried not changing, but his actions still bled through. He was backing him up more than normal, hang over his shoulder or stand by him whenever there was another alpha that would crowd him. 

He wasn't sure whether or not it was good. He did admire the guy from the confines of the book he published, and having the backing of the man that caught Joe Carroll the first time bolstered his worth with the people around him. But having an alpha basically lay his claim over him....

_This is stupid. He's still in love with Claire; there's nothing more than probably the remaining primal feelings from the alpha part of him that wants to protect the prospective mate. There's nothing there and it'll probably fade over a few weeks._

Then he was kidnapped for Claire's location.

-

Ryan didn't know why he was staying near Mike's bed. He knew he was fine. Bruised and battered, the knife wound wasn't as serious as they thought. Instead, he barely forced himself in going to the detention center to find Joe. When he came back after the murdered women, he found out he had been waking up for short amounts of time. The sketch artist had already been in, so he didn't have to worry about being disturbed.

Mike woke up and was surprised to see Ryan near his bed. _If he's truly just acting on remaining primal instincts to protect the mate, then this isn't much of a surprise. Still nice to think about that the man might actually care enough to stay around._ He checked around for a glass of water and a pitcher that most people seemed to think was by a patient's bedside. His movements caught the man's attention, who instinctively found what he needed and placed the end of a straw near his mouth. He took a couple of drinks out before waving him off. “What's been happening?” he asked, voice cracking.

“Joe sent out a woman that went around killing those with the name Claire Matthews,” he reported.

“To try and drive her out,” he concluded.

“And to punish me. For loving her.”

Mike got it, and didn't say anything, not knowing what to follow with. At that moment, a nurse had alerted the main doctor watching over Mike's vitals to his waken state. “Hello,” she introduced, walking in. “I'm Doctor Kinning. Just here to check up quickly. Any abnormal pain?”

“No,” he said.

“Problems with vision or hearing? Any headaches?”

“No,” he repeated.

“That's good,” she claimed,“We were worried. There was no damage to the womb....”

He did not hear that. “W-womb?” he asked.

“Yes,” she affirmed. She was being stared at between the two of them. “Oh, you didn't.... Wow, that's embarrassing. You're about two to three weeks pregnant.”

“How? It was my suppressants that failed, not my birth control,” he argued.

“Your suppressants....” she muttered. “Were you on Cyclosup?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“Oh, ummm....” She walked over and told the guards at the door that she was about to go into more confidential items. They probably thought she was crazy. “The company doesn't want this out; they've barely informed us. The batch wasn't faulty; it was sabotaged. The chemical that was supposed to suppress heats was replaced with a similar chemical that neutralized birth control within the patient. They linked it to a couple of alphas that broke into the manufacturing laboratory of the batch.”

_No, no, no._ “What about Plan B or abortion?” he asked. 

“Those that went for Plan B after their unexpected heats have severe reactions. A few are still in the hospital. We're not sure on abortion. There are a lot of alphas that aren't willing to let the omegas try,” she explained.

“Shit,” he whispered. Ryan looked up at the woman, and she left before he could even ask. “I cannot be pregnant.”

“Calm down,” he tried,

“I cannot be pregnant. I already get shit thrown at me for being young and an omega. This is going to get me thrown off the case, if not the FBI,” he worried. “Guess those alphas got what they want. Omegas out of work and back at home.”

“Hey, there is no way you're getting off that easy,” Ryan commented, “Parker would drag your ass back and place you next to Mitchell if you even got a foot out.” Mike laughed, something that Ryan thought helped. “You really think any of those other omegas are giving up their jobs so easily? They're going to fight.” He tried to smile. It fell off within a second. His attempts to console weren't working. Distraction was his next topic. “A few things now make sense.”

Mike puzzled over it for a minute. “The alphas haven't been complete jerks,” he mentioned, “And the omegas knew something.”

“I was thinking more of the fact I've become more protective around you,” he stated, “I think I knew you smelled different. The hormone at the start of pregnancy changes your base scent.”

_Great, now I'm a walking beacon to anybody that can smell. Oh God...._ Getting off that thought, he said, “I think Parker's going to freak once she finds out about this.”

“Can't wait to see that.”

-

Parker hadn't been able to visit him in the hospital, paperwork and Donovan breathing down their necks. So, the first time he saw her was getting himself released AMA and meeting her at the newly discovered armory. “What are you doing here? You should still be in the hospital,” she fumed, seeing him walk in.

“I'm fine,” he insisted, “I can't stay in the hospital while you guys are out here. I've actually got something to say in private, if there is any place that counts.” She nodded and pulled him down to a small area that had already been processed. “My suppressants didn't just fail. They were sabotaged; a chemical was switched with a birth control neutralizing agent. I'm pregnant,” he announced.

She stood for a few seconds trying to find the words she tried picking out. Then, she realized who the father must have been. “I'm sorry,” she professed.

He nodded, “Thanks. Plan B's out, and I'm not sure about aborting. I don't know what I want to do.” She sat him down on a crate when he started breathing heavy. Her thoughts of pain and anything related to the beating changed when he wiped his eyes. “Damn it, the hormones shouldn't be kicking in already.”

“It's probably not hormones,” she pointed out. “Stress has got to go somewhere.”

“Great,” he complained.

“What are you thinking?”

“That if I go through with the pregnancy, people are going to push me out until I'm basically at home, or somewhere more 'omega' appropriate,” he postulated, “But, this could be the only time I have the chance for a child. At least, one without a jackass of a father.”

She understood where he was coming from. She knew more than a few women that faced the same dilemma when they became unexpectedly pregnant. “When's the cutoff for abortion?” she asked.

“Not for a few more weeks.”

“So talk with someone you trust. Figure out what you want. Don't let anyone pressure you into making a decision you don't want,” she finished, not sure what else she could actually tell him. “We should actually get to work before someone finds out and this spreads.”

He nodded. “Thank you.” 

Ryan's primal instincts were telling him to pull Mike out of there and take him someplace safe when he saw him in the armory. He forced them down, fast. There was no way he was going to be allowed to do that. Instead, he tried passing off as before. Mike seemed agitated over something, and both him and Parker were worrying. Catching up, he asked, “He told you?”

“Yep. And don't you dare force him into anything.”

“I wouldn't.”

“That's what they all say.”

He had no more comments on the way to the house. The agitation may have switched to anger as Mike went after Fowler. Ryan kept himself in between the two, then pushed him along when he had to go into the basement. Daniel Monroe seemed cocky at first, but when they mentioned the armory, he realized he was screwed.

Lured out by a sound, Ryan felt a small nagging to get back to Mike. After killing the follower and tripping over Monroe's body, he saw the 'office' was completely dark. Unable to see inside, he flipped the lights back on. He was fearful when he saw Mike tied to the chair Monroe was once in. Then it spiked with anger when he saw Joe come up behind him. “Hello, Ryan,” he greeted, placing a hand on his shoulder. “This is an unexpected surprise.” Enraged, he tried breaking down the door and shot multiple times at the bulletproof glass. Inside, Joe was smug, and Mike looked up at him with a small amount of fear centered in apology. “I guess I don't have to ask who the father is. Though I must admit, Ryan, I thought you were in love with my wife.”

“He's not in love with me and she's not your wife,” a voice dismissed. Surprisingly for Joe, it came from Mike. Slightly annoyed at the small interruption, he dug his fingers into the healing wound on his forehead. He yelled at the blossoming pain and tried to get his head away.

“Hey!” Ryan yelled, slamming on the window.

“Then explain to me why you are carrying Ryan's progeny,” he commanded, letting go for an answer.

Mike wasn't answering, waiting for the pain to lessen. Ryan could see Joe was getting angry, and ready to take it out on him. “You know about the Cyclosup failure?” he inquired, gaining Joe's attention.

He looked up at him. “Yes. The pheromones in the prison were unbearable, along with dozens of omegas going into heat. More than a few were taken that week,” he elaborated. Then connected dots. “Agent Weston was on Cyclosup.” He nodded. “And you helped him out.”

“There were alphas that were trying to break in and rape him,” he mentioned. “I was the only one he trusted.”

“How noble,” he sneered. He looked back down at Mike. “Are you planning on keeping the baby?”

“It's right now a fetus,” he corrected. “And I don't know.”

“Oh, as much as you complain, it's a baby. Your body's already preparing to carry them to term, protecting it, diverting nutrients. It's like the choice has been made for you.”

“Shut up,” he hissed. He did not want to think of it that way.

“Stop, Joe,” Ryan insisted, “He's not the one you want. You were asking about the death of my father. Why aren't you questioning me about that?”

“Because this is a startling new development, Ryan,” he taunted, “The sidekick has become pregnant by the hero, who is still in love with my wife. But you're right, you are right. Let's get back to the death of your father.” Everything after that went relatively quietly, until Jacob came down with Parker. After he chased Joe and Jacob, and couldn't come back with them, he found Parker talking quietly with Mike. She had cut him loose and he had done her.

After seeing Ryan coming back, she went out to try and contact the field office. He walked in to the 'office' and Mike hugged him out of nowhere. Before he could protest, Mike mumbled, “I am fully abusing my status as a pregnant omega. Just don't push me away. Please.” He sighed and dropped his arms around him, patting his shoulder a couple of times. He could feel the younger man calming and settling against him.

He growled when he heard someone walking over and saw Parker standing a few feet away. “Sorry,” he apologized.

“Donovan's here, along with local police and tech. They need to go over the house,” she informed. “You might want to separate.” Reluctantly, Mike pulled away from Ryan and walked a few feet away from him while they headed outside.

-

With all the havoc and death, Mike was barely aware when they arrived to the lighthouse where Joe had taken Claire and Ryan. Within the flurry of people, he caught Ryan standing over Claire while they were talking to Turner. His omega instinct became jealous her, and he had to mentally halt. _He's not my alpha. I need to stop thinking like this. He's in love with her._ He ignored them for working with a couple of agents over finding the trail of Emma Hill and any other followers they could get evidence on.

Ryan pulled him away to a secluded area that didn't have FBI agents walking past ever minute. “Joe told Claire about the pregnancy. She says congratulations,” he relayed. “I, uh, I told her I couldn't be with her. Not completely, like she needs.”

_Great, false hope._ “If you're doing this because of....”

“I'm doing it because neither of you deserve anything less than what I can give,” he orated, “And she doesn't deserve an alpha that's worried about a pregnant omega and you don't deserve a man whose trying to love two different people at the same time.” _That almost sounded like a love confession, but he's not in love with me. It's the alpha instinct talking._ His insecurity was something Ryan picked up on. “Hey, stop it. I'm not doing this because of the alpha instinct or because of the fetus.” _I wish I could believe that._ He allowed himself a very small percentage to hope for something more, but it didn't expand anymore while they walked back to the chaos of the agents.

Mike was invited back to Ryan's apartment, and after seeing Claire safely into the hands of the marshals, agreed to go with him. They should have expected the guards on the building. Mike figured they didn't want to take any chances with Ryan. Stepping into his apartment, he looked around and saw it modestly furnished. There were a couple pictures of Jenny and some others with two different men. He guessed his brother and father.

He doesn't know if it was the aftereffects of the case or just plain paranoia, but the creak of the floor in another room had Mike walking carefully over with his gun out. Ryan saw his actions and pulled in the guy that handed him the food. The two of them checked around and ended up pulling a woman onto the floor and arresting her. “Molly?” Ryan questioned, seeing her. She kept her mouth shut and was forced out by the officer.

“Who was she?”

“Neighbor, nurse, former girlfriend,” he muttered the last word.

“Joe's plant,” Mike stated. Neither knew what to say, neither wanted to venture into the idea that Joe was still controlling things. Instead, Ryan got into the food and just started separating it so they could eat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family meetings, meddlesome Followers and complications.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm roleplaying, and that takes up my attention.
> 
> That and I had a couple of other stories going. Those are finished, so I can add to this more and more.

Ryan wanted him to stay at the apartment. There were probably still those of the cult walking around and waiting for a chance to attack either one of them. Mike needed to go back to his home. He needed to take care of things. He needed to get his life together.

His dog was excited to see him again, rushing up to him and generally staying around. His neighbor looked concerned when he saw some of the cuts still healing. He waved off the concerns before catching up with housekeeping. He listened to calls from his brothers and his parents before getting a couple from the FBI. He groaned as he thought about the repercussions on what they did to get the information on Parker, and waving the mandatory field suspension for the lost of a partner, and another for the kidnapping.

_“Oh, as much as you complain, it's a baby. Your body's already preparing to carry them to term, protecting it, diverting nutrients. It's like the choice has been made for you.”_

“Oh god,” he moaned, collapsing on the couch. The higher ups would push him out of the FBI faster than hell if they ever found out about the fetus, especially if they figured out the father. _Their Carroll specialist was knocked up by the consultant. That would be great for the fucking press._

He needed information on his options. _PP should be open. I can swing by there and grab some pamphlets or brochures._ His dog as the excuse, he walked down to the small clinic and asked if he could get some information on the procedure used on omegas. While he was waiting, he spotted two men watching him from the corner across the street.

 _They're not watching me. I'm paranoid. The cult wouldn't go after me._ He thanked the nurse that finally handed him some papers and he went back outside. He kept his head down and pulled out his cell in case he had to take photos or call anyone. Whoever they were, they kept their distance and he got back to his apartment in record time. His door had an envelope taped to it and he ripped it off before locking himself inside. His dog noticed his anxiety and whined until he sat down so he could curl up beside him.

The envelope was first. He figured it to be something from his landlord. It was getting close to inspection time. Instead, he got a cleanly printed paper with a threat on it.

“You have the choice on how many people die before you accept, Agent Weston. Chose wisely.”

“Fuck,” he whispered. _A bunch of fucking serial killers are 'pro-life'. Fuck, fuck, fuck._ He hated this, hated Joe Carroll, hated being an omega. At some point, he had started getting worked up enough to tear and shudder. He tried to stop himself, focused on steadying his breath and calming his emotions. The thoughts were still repeating in his head, so it wasn't working. His dog moved from his side to his lap, nuzzling to get his attention. It worked a little; his mind diverted a tiny bit, but it was still on his situation. He jumped when his phone started going off. “Hello?” he greeted.

“Mike?” Ryan said, concerned. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing's wrong,” he lied, trying to speak with a steady voice. 

He sighed, “Mike. Open the door; I'm right outside.” He hung up and waited. It took a minute for the door he was in front of to actually open. Mike had been starting to cry, red eyes still evident. He felt protective and instinctively reached out to pull him into a hug. “What happened?”

He stated, low, “I don't have a choice.” Unsure of what he meant, he ushered him back in and sat him down on the couch. That's when he saw the pamphlets, and the threat. Ryan sat next to him, settling so he could allow him to lie into him. Mike took it, curling up on his shoulder. His dog jumped up and took his lap again. “I went down to the PP clinic, and got those.” He pointed out the papers. “There were two guys watching me across the road, came home and found the note on my door.”

Ryan kept himself calm so Mike would calm as well. “Why don't you want to be pregnant?” he asked, voice steady.

He muttered, “Because I get treated like crap for being an omega normally. There are a few in the FBI that will say I should leave for the 'sake of the baby.' I worked harder and better than half the fucking agents to get into the BAU. I don't want to give that up; it is my career. I don't want to be forced out due to some backwards old belief that omegas are only good for baking, bed and breeding.”

Ryan hated that belief. People forgot that some of the best and smartest people are omegas. They want to ignore it all so they could just keep on with their parents and grandparents ways. They felt entitled to them, having someone under their control. “I don't think you're going to be shamed out,” he concluded, “You helped catch several members of the cult, you protected the information on Claire. They would be foolish to give you up.” Mike wrapped an arm around him, holding on to him and the words.

After finding out he had nothing in the apartment worthy of eating, Mike went out for takeout, leaving Ryan alone in his apartment with his dog, which had been named Leech by his previous owners. The dog followed him around while he inspected the apartment. He found out Mike played an Xbox and had several horror games along with a few first shooters. His small bookshelf ranged from true stories to cookbooks to a set of Harry Potter. He was surprised he didn't find his book among them.

“Where would he have that?” he pondered. Curious, he looked in other traveled places. The kitchen/eating area had bills, paperwork and other items, but not a book. He then caught a glance into Mike's bedroom, and saw his book sitting on the side of the bed. “Interesting bedside reading.” He walked in and grabbed it before walking back out. He flipped through it and saw highlighted sections along with written notes.

Mike found him reading his marked book when he came back with the food. “I don't think that was out here,” he commented, putting the bags down.

“It wasn't,” he revealed. “Do you really think I went in the wrong direction?”

“What part?” he asked, checking everything over.

“I'm in chapter two.”

“If it was the part on the victims, yeah.” He passed over Ryan's order and sat his next to him before going and feeding Leech so he wouldn't interrupt them. The two of them ate in silence before Mike turned on the TV and found a game show to put on for background noise.

After they finished, Ryan picked his book again to go over the comments written everywhere. He saw the remarks turned from the case to a commentary on his life and possible brain patterns. When he was done, he looked over at Mike, who was scratching his dogs ears while watching Mythbusters. “So, when did you decide to start riffing my life instead of commenting on the case?” he asked innocently.

He froze and looked over. “I....” he stumbled, trying several times to say before just falling silent. Ryan started laughing and pulled Mike closer, to the displeasure of Leech. He settled so that Mike was leaning on him, both of his hands protectively over the area where the fetus would be growing.

-

Mike was sent to an OB doctor as soon as his general practitioner found out about the pregnancy. He had to go over the suppressant and birth control information again with the new doctor, an omega male in a successful relationship with his wife of thirty years. “Terrible business, that Cyclosup,” he muttered, “How long were you on it before?”

“Since Two-Thousand Six,” he answered.

He was taken back. That was unheard of for any of his patients. “You didn't have the mandatory two year stop?” he inquired.

“No. My doctor at the time told me to do it; I couldn't,” he relayed.

The man had an 'oh' moment. “An alpha attack,” he stated. Mike nodded. “The first cycle afterward, you had a panic attack?” He again nodded. “All right. That might lead to some problems later on. Omegas are recommended to be off their suppressants for about two cycles before actively trying to get pregnant. This is for their health. I'm going to be watching a little more closely. Now, extend your arm; I need to take blood.”

After a gathering of bodily fluids, the doctor completed the appointment and gave him some directions on neonatal vitamins and effects that he was going to feel due to the chemicals now just getting out of his system. He also handed him the numbers and office addresses of a couple of therapists. “Several other patients have been experiencing negativity about what's happened,” he explained.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, making sure it was securely in place with the other papers. Ryan didn't mention it after he got home, but the papers were a mess after he had gone to sleep and the therapists had been checked out by a couple of his old friends within the bureau.

Four days after his visit, his newspaper had a candid shot of him. He was standing just behind Ryan, right before the murder of the news reporter by Annabel Lee. **BAU Agent on Carroll Case Pregnant, Hardy Suspected Father.**

“Oh. My. God,” he punctuated, slamming it down. How the hell did someone find out about that? “Fuck!” He fully expected the phone to go off just after he read that, and time didn't disappoint him. “Hello?” he answered.

“Meeting in an hour, Weston,” SSA Hotchner reported, before ending his side.

The next call was a few minutes after that. “I saw,” Ryan told him, “I already had to tell Jenny, Vicky and Max. Jenny saw before me. If you're not busy this weekend, she wants to make something for the five of us and meet you outside the agent role.”

“Oh, is that it?” he mused.

“They're not going to eat you alive.”

“The BAU might. I already got called in; I have to leave soon.”

“Shit,” he empathized, “I'll call you tonight. Maybe I'll be there tomorrow.”

Maybes usually were 'I'm going to do this.' “Okay, see you tomorrow,” he finished.

“Bye.” He ended the call and waited for another to suddenly pop up. Apparently, his parents weren't awake yet. He dressed in one of his three suits, a navy one that had been recently cleaned and found a shirt and tie set he could wear with it.

News crews were at the front door of the FBI over his announced pregnancy. He saw Mitchell waving him from a side door and he ran over while keeping his head down. “Thanks,” he whispered, making sure no one noticed him. She stared at him for a couple of seconds, demanding the answer. “Yes, he is the father.”

“Why am I not surprised?” she muttered. He kept his mouth shut while riding up.

He was instantly moved over to a conference room where the director of the FBI along with the temporary BAU chief SSA Agent Hotchner. “Sirs,” he worried.

“Sit down, Agent,” he directed. Mike was wary, but he sat in the last seat, across from them. “You were reported that the Cyclosup you were taking was part of the sabotaged batch from two months ago?” he questioned.

“Yes.”

“You went back to the hotel early because your cycle was beginning. Where and when did Hardy come in?”

“He had heard from Agent Parker that my suppressants had failed. His original plan had been to just give clothes with his pheromones so my body would be tricked into thinking there was an alpha. When he passed my room, there were two alphas trying to break in.”

“Already?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

Director Franklin decided to interrupt. “That matches what was reported with other omegas that were taking the affected batch. Along with the birth control neutralizing agent, there seemed to be something that increased pheromones. Many were raped by alphas that smelled the overly powerful pheromones, even between floors and outside of houses.”

That startling piece of news scared Mike, paling him considerably. “Did Hardy force his way in?” Hotchner inquired, catching his reaction.

“No,” he denied, “No, Ryan Hardy did not force his way in. I asked him in and he agreed to stay.”

His response wasn't a positive one. There might have been a lingering thought that he had been coerced or forced to lie. They still noted it down as consensual, but there was going to be a check. With no other questions, he was sent back home.

His oldest brother Jason was waiting outside his building. “What the hell are you doing here?” he questioned, staring at him.

“What? A big brother can't visit his little one?”

“I haven't been smaller than you in a while. And you usually don't visit me.” He was suspicious about his brother, but he decided to wait until he was inside before questioning. After getting rid of his jacket and tie, he grabbed a couple of glasses and filled them with water. He handed the second one off. “Was it the news, or did Mom send you?”

He laughed, “Figured it mostly out. I read the paper, then Dad called. He wants the details.”

“Details?”

“The alpha, decisions on work, where you're moving because there is no way this place is big enough for a new family,” he listed. Leech, curious to the new person, clacked over and started sniffing him. “Hello.” He bent down and started scratching his head.

“Alpha's obvious,” he muttered to himself, then louder, “I'm not quitting the FBI, not transferring to a desk job. Fuck what they think; I'm not quitting my job. I don't know about housing, he's in Brooklyn, but I need to be around here for work.”

“It is Hardy?” he confirmed. Mike just glared at him. He started laughing. “Oh man, they will freak when they hear this.”

“Shut up,” he growled, finishing off his water and drawing more out of the tap before drinking it down and filling it again.

“Hey, I agree with you on the FBI,” he defended, “I doubt Hardy's getting much from his book and disability. Besides, it made you happy getting in.” Mike had sat back down and smiled when he felt a warmth at the words. “I don't know the rate on houses in Quantico, but you may want to start looking into it now before second semester hits.”

“Hmm.... thanks,” he said, “Didn't think about that at all.” The sarcastic tone got him hit lightly. He rubbed the area in false pain before playing with the glass. “Not entirely sure what's happening. I don't know if he's staying around after.”

“Why?” Jason inquired.

“Because he was in love with a woman before his and I think this is just the alpha instinct. I want to believe it's more, but...” He sipped the water to keep himself from cracking. “He's probably still in love with her and what do I compare?”

“Mike, knock it off,” he lightly berated, “Is he still with her?”

He shook his head. “No, but....”

“Stop. This Hardy guy could still be with her, alpha instinct or not. He isn't.” Mike was getting closer to believing it. “Should I meet him? Scare him a bit?”

He snorted, “I don't think you could.”

“What?”

“You do know about the case, right?”

“Hey, do not underestimate me.”

Jason was still around when Ryan showed up in the morning. Mike wanted him not to cook anything, but he experienced his first round of morning sickness when he woke up, and couldn't get to him before he started.

Ryan was surprised at the man that answered the door. “Hello,” he greeted, not particularly happy.

“Ryan Hardy,” he stated. He didn't move until Mike started pushing him aside and reminding him he had things on the stove. “I'll talk to you later.”

He rolled his eyes, but just turned back to Ryan. “Hi,” he whispered, “Just had my first round of morning sickness.”

He grimaced in sympathy. “Sorry. So, who was that?”

“My brother, Jason, the one I actually get along with. He's an NYPD officer, please don't kill each other.”

“I won't kill him,” he promised, “But if he attacks me, I claim self-defense.”

He groaned and walked in the kitchen, planning on taking some of the coffee that was brewing. Jason switched it out for fresh milk he got last night. “Hey,” he complained.

“Like I wasn't going to do that,” Jason condescended, handing it off to Ryan instead. “You can't have coffee until after birth.” He stared at him like he just took away something extremely important. “Mike, don't give me that look.”

He scowled, then saddled up to Ryan to gaze at the mug. “No,” he droned, moving it away from him. He sighed, then moved back to his bathroom to puke again. 

Jason served up a relatively clean plate of eggs and toast when he came back out. He stared at it before tasting it, surprised that it was actually normal and that it was settling his stomach. After finishing it, he asked, “What did you put in it?”

“Why would you accuse me of something so devious?” he smirked, then relented, “Ginger, it's good for nausea.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, not feeling as badly as before.

Jason had to get back so he could work the next day, but he warned that their parents might visit. He got Ryan alone for a few minutes and threatened him a few times before finally leaving. He wrapped his arms around Mike when they sat down on the couch. “Your brother threatened me with castration if I left after you gave birth,” he mentioned, “Also threatened to feed me to his partner at the twelfth district.”

He hummed, settling down, “Casey. She was nice to me.”

-

Ryan had planned on surprising Mike with a couple of houses he was looking at, some inside of Quantico and some on the way down from New York. He also wanted to discuss a possible transfer to the New York office. An old friend had told him that a small offshoot of the main BAU unit situated there was looking at adding a new member. It was still the job that Mike was used to, maybe. He wasn't sure.

He had a few papers with specifics and was heading up to Mike's apartment when he heard yelling. Immediately, he became concerned, thinking a leftover from the cult had gotten in.

“MOM! I AM NOT FUCKING QUITTING!”

Not a follower. Instead of knocking, he texted Mike and hoped he had it on him. Maybe they would walk down and get Mike something to calm him down while talking.

“HOW IS IT RESPONSIBLE FOR ME TO QUIT MY JOB? WE NEED THE INCOME!”

Okay, best to get him out now. A couple of the neighbors were starting to open their doors and he waved them off while calling. “Come on, Mike.” When he finally answered, he told him, “Just come out. Say you have an emergency meeting or something.”

He hung up and waited a couple of minutes before Mike hurried out. “Let's leave before...” he urged.

“Michael!” a sharp voice lectured, “I was not finished and that was rude.” A woman, probably around ten to twenty years older than Ryan walked out. “Ryan Hardy,” she stated. He didn't say anything. “Well, the papers didn't do you any favors.”

“Mom!” Mike hissed, aware that his neighbors were starting to come out. He ignored them. “Leave, now.” He grabbed Ryan's hand and started dragging him.

“What does he do for a living?” she demanded, “I heard he lives off his disability and the money from his book. Does he plan on doing that his entire life and caring for you and the children?”

“Why do you care?” Mike questioned, “He's not bound to you and I'm also contributing.”

“An omega should not work when there are children. He's not a proper alpha. You need a proper alpha,” she insisted.

“Like the one that raped me in college?” he blurted. Ryan was still a little surprised at the admission, but the little things he had picked up, what he liked and triggers during the cycle, clued him in. It was still jarring to hear.

He pulled Mike a little closer to him. “Come on,” he whispered, “Have your keys?” He nodded. Ryan closed the door behind the woman, so she couldn't wait in his apartment to argue with him. They walked down, leaving her standing in the hallway.

The small shop was half-filled with people when they arrived. After ordering drinks, the two of them took a small table away from the crowd as they could. “That was embarrassing,” Mike moaned, realizing that Ryan and his neighbors heard their argument.

“Are you always like that around her?” he asked.

“I haven't talked to her in a few years, about right when I went into the academy,” he explained, “She hated that I was doing. Said it was too dangerous for an omega, not right for an omega. Not proper.” He played with the straw. “She's old fashioned most of the time.”

“Most?”

“She supports separation of alphas and omegas. In special cases.” He sipped some of his drink. “Having an abused family member screwed her perfect world views.”

He frowned, watching him become anxious. “What about your father?”

He huffed, “The epitome of a proper alpha. Supported the family on his paycheck alone, strong, dominate. He's also the last of a dying breed. Good alphas that don't take advantage and treat omegas well. Mom thinks there's more like him.”

Ryan wanted him to calm down. “Hey,” he motioned, “Off the topic. I've got something to show you.” He pulled out the papers and listings.

“Houses?” he puzzled.

“Some in Quantico, a couple a few minutes drive in.” He laid them out with no order. “The New York branch is also looking for a new agent for their BAU off-shoot.”

He smiled, “You just don't want to move out of New York.”

“Well, the rest of my living family's there. And I may have a job offer.”

He raised one eyebrow in surprise. “One thing at a time,” he said, grabbing one of the papers and reading it over.

-

Mike couldn't stop puking.

This was the fourth day he had thrown up more than four times. He read all the tips for pregnant people, trying several of them and they weren't working. He hated feeling more weak than he already was. He looked up what it could possibly be, and got into some of the problems being reported with the Cyclosup pregnancies. He read a couple of stories and had to shut down his internet browser to stop panicking.

He barely heard the concerned shouting on the other side of his front door as he knelt in front of the toilet. He managed one final heave before standing up and washing. He carefully walked out and opened the door to Ryan's worried face. “Mike?” he questioned, then saw him collapsing, “Mike!”

The next time he woke up, Mike realized he was in the hospital. “Damn it, I just got out of one,” he muttered. He saw an IV bag dripping down into his hand and wondered what it was replacing.

“Nutrients,” Ryan answered, walking into view. _Did I say that out loud?_ “Your morning sickness is a little worse than normal. Your body's fighting too hard to get rid of the fetus. And no, I just knew what you were going to ask.”

He smiled, then let it fall. “Happened?” he shortened.

“You collapsed; I called your obstetrician. He told me to just drive you into the hospital. You've already had blood taken for a quick panel,” he reported.

“When?”

“Not yet. Finish that before the doctor comes back with results. He was hinting at an overnight stay,” he said.

“No,” he interrupted, “No more stays.”

He stopped him. “Hey, it's for your health.”

His eyes pleaded with him. “I don't want to stay.”

“Yeah, I know.” He sat down in one of the chairs and waited for the doctor to come back.

When he finally did, the IV drip was almost gone. “Well, why don't we just detach that?” he motioned, removing the tube and laying it down before removing the port. “Good news for you. You're not staying overnight.” Mike was relieved. “This might last for a few more days. Just keep hydrated as best as you can. Make sure you have someone around to help out.”

“I'll be staying around,” Ryan assured.

“Excellent. I won't put you on an antiemetic pill just yet. Try more natural remedies first. Ginger is a good start,” he directed. Mike nodded.

Out of the hospital and back home, Ryan had him settled on the couch before he started looking up things he could make with ginger. “You said your brother left a ginger root in the fridge?” he asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, about ready to drop into sleep.

“I'll make some tea for you later,” he told him, about ready to let him.

“Mmmm,” he mumbled, “Help me to bed. Please.” He raised his arms. “I'm going to be out for the rest of the night.” Ryan got a good grip and navigated him over to the bedroom. Once settled, Mike pulled him down next to him. “Perfect,” he claimed, nesting himself in his arms.

“Are you sure?” 

He nodded, “Don't leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For giggles, Mike's oldest brother is Jason Walsh, from the Unusuals.
> 
> I also threw in Criminal Minds because, they already did. There might be some White Collar later on and any other FBI related tv show I watch. And non-FBI related because I just like throwing references to everything in places.


	3. Second Trimester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabotage updates, feeling admissions and a White Collar trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, know I got White Collar and Criminal Minds here. Oh and it's an update. Go me. Maybe the next one will be a Christmas present. Or another idea I got.
> 
>  
> 
> **I'm putting a trigger warning here for discussion of past rape and sexual assaults. It's not occurring, but better safe than sorry.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Oh and if any equates Plan B to abortion, which no, then that's here as well.**
> 
>  
> 
> **And hopefully, I didn't name a real person when naming the rapist. If I did, oops.**
> 
>  
> 
> Also, the explicit rating is for this chapter.

Mike felt the morning sickness started to receded alongside getting more of his energy back a couple of weeks after his last trip to the hospital. This turned out great for him as he was allowed back to work. The BAU didn't want him going on cases, a combination of media still pouring over the case and his 'condition' so he was stuck going over cold cases and help requests for police departments.

There was also an increase in weight, as he discovered when he started having problems getting his jeans on. A run for clothes had him discovering the problems of affordable, available, professional pregnancy wear. He wrangled a few new jeans and larger shirts before dropping a few more dollars for dress pants and shirts he could wear in the office.

Ryan was dropping by on weekends, working around his new schedule of teaching at a college in New York. Mike found it slightly comical. They still discussed possible housing changes. Ryan wanted to stay in the city. Mike wanted to stay near Quantico. They were trying to work out a compromise involving trips up every few months back up.

He was amused over a text when he walked out to the floor of the BAU. As it had been since he came back, he attracted Mitchell and Penelope Garcia, a cybertech that was attached to the BAU's main group. “So, Dee and I were wondering who would win? Hotch or Hardy?” the woman posed, walking along side.

“What would be the challenge?” he asked. While they tried to come up with a suitable match, he managed to get to his desk and sit down before being badgered by anyone else. The morning went quietly, before he went to lunch down in the cafeteria. He continued looking through houses in the area. Soon, he was going to have to plan to move out of the apartment if he wanted to do it mostly by himself. _That's if I'm allowed._ Ryan had been making noise about moving into a home. Possibly because he wanted to move in with him.

After finishing, he walked back to the floor of the BAU, getting on an elevator. Before the doors closed, two alphas that had been on the case joined him. He moved back so one of them could push the button for the floor they needed himself. “How's that omega you picked up?” one asked.

Mike closed his eyes to concentrate on not hitting one of them. “Great ass,” he chortled, “Even better when I started pounding into it. Moaning to high hell.” He dropped his voice in to mock whisper. “Made me breakfast the next morning. Knows how to take care of an alpha..”

The other alpha, who was closer to Mike, leaned over. “How come you're not taking care of your alpha?” he sneered.

He refused to back off, instead glaring at the man. “Because mine actually knows how to take care of himself. Unlike you morons,” he retorted. The doors opened and he walked out before automatically heading to the bathroom. He checked around for anyone in the room before locking the door and forcibly calming himself down. He couldn't be disrespectful to anyone in the Bureau. He couldn't afford to be fired. The alphas that had been in the elevator with him weren't around again when he walked back out. He settled down and went back to the paperwork, keeping his head down but listening for any gossip going around.

The rest of the week went uneventful, and he drove home to grab his duffel bag to head up to New York. Ryan told him he had something planned, and he needed to come up for it. It took him a few hours, but he managed to get there before ten at night.

“Hey,” Ryan opened with, “Your trip?”

“Uneventful,” he told him, putting down his duffel by the bed. “Is your surprise tonight?”

“No, I planned it for tomorrow,” he mentioned. Happy with that, Mike changed into sweats and a t-shirt before going back and accepting the late night meal Ryan had made.

Saturday was cloudy with a threat of snow the entire day. Ryan was talking on the phone several times, usually out of range of Mike's hearing. There wasn't a lot for him to do, his paperwork surprisingly all caught up. Instead, he watched a couple of movies before being ushered by Ryan to get ready to head out.

Ryan took him to his sister's restaurant, which was moderately packed for a Saturday. The hostess showed them to a half-hidden booth, and a waitress gave them menus before going and getting water glasses. Mike saw a couple of people glancing over in their direction and felt a little self conscious over the newly developing bump that was showing. 

_Oh my god. I'm a pregnant omega on a date with his alpha in his sister's restaurant. Just great._ He started laughing at himself. “Something wrong?” Ryan asked, concerned.

“I'm fine,” he assured, “I'm fine. Just thinking about the situation.” The waitress arrived with their meals and they quieted to eat somewhat quickly.

After dinner, he took Mike over to the college theater, where a local orchestra was set to perform within a half hour. Ryan showed his faculty badge and received the tickets he had purchased earlier. A group of students that took Ryan's class were astounded by the sight of Mike by his side. They knew about the pregnancy, thanks to the news, but they didn't think he would be taking him out. “He's cute, Mister Hardy,” one of the girls exclaimed. 

“The two of you are,” another added. She was shushed and the others giggled as they hurried in, sneaking glances before getting away.

He turned to Ryan, partially mortified at the responses of his students. “I hope we're not seated next to them,” Mike said. The seats were a few rows behind the gigglers, which was a small relief. About halfway into the first act, he slumped a little into his seat and leaned over to set his head on a shoulder. Ryan raised an amused eyebrow before lacing his fingers into Mike's. One of the girls looked back and saw the two of them. She smirked and turned back to the orchestra.

Finished for the night, Ryan took him back to the apartment. “So, what was the date about?” he asked, standing in the middle of the room. “Yeah, I figured it out. You took me out on a date. I don't get why.”

He walked up to Mike and wrapped his arms around him. “Because you're still asking that,” he whispered, “I chose you.” 

He smiled at the borrowed and paraphrased quote. “Sorry,” he mumbled, returning the hold.

“You really don't believe me, do you?”

He shook his head. “Not really. It sounds too good to be true.”

-

Mike read the old magazine for the second time. Ryan was sitting beside him, constantly checking the time and becoming fidgety. “He's probably held up,” he murmured. “There have been several omegas in the area affected by the Cyclosup. Probably with another patient that's taking a bit longer due to problems.” He nudged him carefully. “Stop worrying.”

“Can't help it,” he informed, “First ultrasound.” The other man nodded and hummed in agreement. It was close to half an hour late that they were finally called back to the patient rooms. 

The doctor just motioned for Mike to get on the table. “Too many patients today. Several having had ultrasounds and they're starting to pour in,” he confessed, “Some haven't had the greatest beginnings. Health problems, mental problems. This will be great business for the clinic, but it will be tolling over the next few months.” The machine was already on and the gel was still out. “All ready. Just slide your shirt up so I can cover the area.” He did at the man wanted and the gel, not completely cold but not warm either, was applied and then moved around by the wand. After a few seconds, they were able to watch the monitor for a clear shot of the fetus. Mike was speechless, watching the small being move a tiny bit. Ryan was rubbing small circles into his shoulder. “No problems at the moment. I wouldn't call gender at this point. Any problems since the over-nauseous episode?”

“No,” he answered.

“Problems with certain foods?”

“No,” he repeated.

“That's good. Your body isn't fighting it as much. And for a healthy male as yourself, the suppressants haven't screwed as much as projected,” he confirmed, “I'd like to check again at the halfway point. We've already started arraigning appointments for that. Several days are already filled. Check with Miranda outside, she'll be able to give you dates.” He handed over paper towels for Mike to wipe off his stomach before putting his shirt back down.

Mike gave Ryan days that he would be able to wrangle off before going to the bathroom. He went quickly and was washing his hands when he heard someone come in. He didn't pay much attention to the new person until he was thrown back from the sinks into one of the cubicles. He took looked at who had done it and paled. The smile on the man's face was sinister, looking down on his prey. “Heya, Mike,” he purred.

He hissed in a breath before mentally gathering his nerves and standing up. “Get away from me, Plouskey,” he ordered, trying to move forward. The man pushed him back, holding him again the wall. Old fears started seeping back into his mind.

“You wouldn't go out with me, but you'll take some defective alpha,” he growled, getting uncomfortably closer, “Drunk, heart problems.”

Mike jammed his knee close to his groin. The man groaned in pain and leaned back a tiny bit. Able to get some leverage, he punched him twice in the ribs and then got out of the stall and ran out of the bathroom. He literally bumped into Ryan by the elevators. The nervousness and slight fear that were lingering drew his attention. “What's wrong?” he inquired. The younger man only looked back as he saw someone exit the same area and come toward them.

“Fucking little whore of an....” he rumbled.

“Back off!” Ryan ordered, stepping in front of him. He saw the secretary pick up the phone and start dialing. He hoped for security and not the police. Quicker response from them, hopefully. The man wasn't stopping and he waited until he reached for Mike to punch him in the face. He staggered back, holding a now bleeding nose. “Stay the fuck back. I don't know what the hell you did, but you're going to get yourself arrested for assault of a federal officer.”

They were interrupted from any more fighting by two security officers that pulled back the man and forced him downstairs. A different man lead Ryan and Mike downstairs, asking what exactly happened and informing them that they would try to make sure appointments wouldn't correspond with each other. If that wouldn't work, they they would make sure the men would be in completely different areas. The two just thanked him before getting in the car and driving off.

The house that they had finally decided on was barely furnished, the couch from Mike's apartment and the bed from Ryan's having made its way down. Mike curled up with a blanket and Leech in his lap on the couch. Ryan made him a mug of tea while brewing some coffee for himself. He placed both on the side table before sitting beside him, slouching down and resting his legs on the ottoman. After a minute, Mike moved so he was laying on Ryan's chest. “Was he the one?” he questioned.

He nodded, “He first spotted me in sophomore year. We were in the same class. Said I smelt like a good breeder. I hated that, rejected him. He kept chasing me, going so far as to contact my parents, convince them he was my boyfriend. Mom was thrilled. His father was an executive at a corporation, his mother was a trophy omega. He was healthy, fit and rich. Proper alpha for me.” He petted Leech a few times, who was calm and docile for his owner. “Junior year, I had gotten an apartment with a normal friend. I went into heat, and he stayed over with a girl. He broke in, found out where I was living. Tied me up and raped me, knotted me for a day. Someone realized something was wrong, called the police. He was arrested and I was taken to the hospital instead of the clinic. Good thing. The clinic wouldn't have been able to give me Plan B.”

Ryan had been rubbing his arm calmly. “The university pushed you into not pressing charges,” he stated, squeezing lightly.

“Yeah, in return, they moved me to another apartment, kept my address off record,” he revealed, “Didn't force him to leave.” He paused for a few seconds of self-loathing. “The first heat after that, I freaked. My roommate had to call for help. They knocked me out and kept me out until the end of my heat.”

“And you went on suppressants.” He sounded an agreement, calmed down enough to motion for the tea and start drinking it. The TV was turned on, landing on a repeat on cable. Mike fell asleep, Leech leaving to wander. Ryan carefully took the mug out of his hand and placed it on the side table. He glanced down at him, seeing his hands unconsciously protect the increasing bump. One of his own joined in, lacing his fingers through the opposite. He mumbled something and tighten his grip. “That bastard better stay away the next time,” he muttered to the room,”Otherwise a broken nose isn't going to be the worse thing he gets.”

-

Normally, Mike would be against using FBI resources on personal issues, but the run in with Plouskey had him wary of what the man was doing out here. He found credit card receipts and airplane travel that told him he had been around Quantico, right around the time the suppressants failed. _It has to be a coincidence. There's no way he knew about it beforehand._ He started looking for reasons why he would have been in Virginia. Instead, what he found was a trail of omega assault reports. His parents were still covering for him, paying off victims or coercing them into dropping charges.

He triple checked the lock before collapsing on the couch. He was scared. Carroll's group was a bunch of murdering fanatics, but the man that assaulted him in college made him more afraid than any of them did. The man had either planned, or was given information about his suppressant failure, and he planned to rape him when he went into heat. _He would have made sure I stayed pregnant by sabotaging the birth control and making the Plan B have a bad reaction. Fuck._ If it wasn't for the case bringing him out to Richmond, he would have been at home at the right time. His dog noticed something wrong and curled next to him while he tried to find a show to watch and numb his head. USA was showing an ill-timed run of SVU and Castle was about the singer. Finding nothing, he landed on game show repeats, getting the answers to the questions annoyingly right all the time.

His mind kept racing around the information he found. Plouskey had raped him. Would he really have had a large amounts of suppressants sabotaged just so his might be part of the lot and he would go into heat without any birth control? Would he have raped him again? Mike would have pressed charges; there was no way in hell he wouldn't have done that this time. He would have also gotten an abortion, if he couldn't manipulate the circumstances and made him unable to get one.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, started to cry. He wiped, but they were still flowing heavily. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” He wasn't sobbing, which he felt was good. It was too much. He shuttered. If Joe Carroll hadn't escaped from jail and gathered a bunch of psychos, he would have been assaulted again and forcibly impregnated by his college rapist. And that just made him start laughing. _Joe Carroll fucking kept me from being raped._ He scared Leech, who went running while he switched between the two emotions. He felt bad about that. “Stop this, Weston, you are not having a breakdown over Carroll and that asshole.”

He looked over at the clacking of paws to see his dog dragging one of Ryan's shirts over. He waited until the dog tried jumping up on the couch before taking it from him. “Thanks, Leech,” he whispered, burying his head and breathing in the scent and slight pheromones that lingered. Instinctively, he started calming a bit. _Pheromones can trick a partner into believing the other is there._ However, smell itself usually didn't do the trick, no matter how strong the scent or the receiving partner. Nothing could completely match the physical partner being there, no matter what the books said.

Ryan had been talking to someone else from the meeting when his phone went off. “Your partner?” he asked, seeing the ID.

“Yeah,” he answered, walking a little away to answer. “Hey, Mike.”

“Hi,” he faltered, the shirt clutched to his chest, “I just really want to said that I'm glad you showed up when I unexpectedly started my heat.”

He didn't expect to hear that, making him worried. “Mike? Is everything okay?”

“It's better than it could be,” he avoided. “I'm, I'm sorry. See you this weekend?”

He wanted to ask, but Mike wasn't going to tell him anything. Not over the phone. “Yeah, I'll see ya.” The other side hung up and he slid his phone back in his pocket before going back. The weekend was too far for him at the moment.

Mike set his phone on the table. A part of him knew he needed to eat, but he didn't want to move. Instead, he curled up on the couch, the shirt ending up over a pillow so he could lay on it. He breathed in again, calming down a little more. _It didn't happen. I need to remember that. It didn't happen. He won't be able to do it in the future. Not without repercussions._ He switched to TBS for the comedy lineup, falling asleep before the end of a Big Bang Theory.

Waking up on the couch reminded him why he couldn't sleep there at the moment. After moving to ease his stiff muscles, Mike made a bigger than normal breakfast and drove into work. A part of him wanted to take another one of Ryan's shirts in, but he held off and just forced himself to live without. The alphas already had enough to throw at him. They didn't need another weak spot.

He also kept thinking about the possible connection between Plouskey and the suppressant failure. _There is no way that was a coincidence. My name hadn't been released to the press until the attack. He would have thought I was in Quantico. He probably knew my apartment number, about Leech. He was going to search me out and repeat what he did in college. He had to have been involved._ He couldn't do anything, legally, he was too close to the situation. Instead, he searched into whether the FBI was investigating the sabotage. He got lucky when he did find an open investigation, headed by Peter Burke of the White Collar Unit. _Well, that makes sense in a way._

Leaving early on Friday, he managed to get to the FBI building in New York before four. Ryan would be holding his last class and they would be able to head to a local diner, not Jason's, before going to the small apartment Ryan rented for work. He was lucky to catch Agent Burke before the man left for the day. “Agent Weston,” he greeted, meeting him at the door. He smelt the pheromones of a bonded alpha. It was also clear that he could smell the omega in him, as well as the partial bond he now had due to the pregnancy. “Peter Burke. When they called up, they mentioned you had something about the Cyclosup sabotage?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “It may be a possible lead, if you can follow up on it.”

“That would be great.” He showed him up to his office, with another man following behind. He looked to be a few weeks ahead of Mike, larger and showing more. “Neal, you have paperwork.”

“Finished it,” he claimed.

“You could not have finished it.”

“I heard Cyclosup. I want to know his lead.” They got up into the office, where Neal placed himself in the chair furthest away from the door. “Also, I'm not ahead,” he predicted, “I have twins.”

Mike sat down in the other. “I'm glad that didn't happen to me,” he blurted out, “Sorry.”

“Trust me, it's a lot worse than that,” he revealed, “I am a twin and my twin is also having twins.”

He stared at him before Peter got his attention again. “You said you had a lead?” he brought up again, “I didn't think anyone here called in a favor to the BAU.”

“No one did.” He took out a small folder of the legally obtained information he had looked up without a warrant. “This is a personal tip.” He handed the folder over to Peter. He hadn't expected a second person when delivering the information. He picked out the details that probably would matter. “David Plouskey, thirty, alpha, son of...”

“Theodore and Emma Plouskey. Father's an exec with Millope corp, mother doesn't have an official job,” Neal rattled off.

“Neal,” Peter warned.

“I never acted on it,” he professed.

“That would be a good thing,” he muttered, reading some of the charges, “Omega assaults. Parents have covered up a few.”

“Yeah, they have,” Mike muttered.

Peter looked up at his comment. “I'm not seeing the connection,” he prompted, “Guy like this could get a completely submissive omega to suit his needs.”

He started fidgeting. His assault was never reported, thanks to the university pushing for it. So there wasn't his own experience in there thanks to privacy lawsuits. “He didn't want another omega. He wanted me,” he narrated, “He raped me in college after I rejected him. When my suppressants failed, he was in Quantico at the exact time it happened.”

“And you weren't in Quantico?” Neal questioned.

“No, Richmond, Joe Carroll.”

Peter nodded, “He either had knowledge about the failure or he had a hand in it. The fact you weren't at home screwed up his plan.” Mike agreed. “Okay, that I can work with. That and something that you didn't find the first time.”

“What?”

“Millope corporation is the one that manufactures Cyclosup. He had means to help the two alphas we already have get into the plant, possibly even get which lot number you would receive and disrupt it. Motive, means, opportunity,” Neal mentioned.

“Interrupted, thankfully,” he mouthed.

Peter stood up. The meeting didn't need to go any longer, and he didn't need Neal corrupting another FBI agent. “Agent Weston, thank you,” he claimed, shaking his hand when he stood up to face him.

“You're welcome.”

He walked down by himself, Peter started on connecting enough dots to get a warrant for Plouskey's place. Rush hour was making everyone run around faster. He went over to the subway and headed down to the college campus to get over to Ryan's last class. Sneaking in, he sat in the back while he talked. He smiled when he heard the topic and kept down his laughter as well as he could. Thankfully, most of the students were closer down, so he didn't attract attention. It ended only a few minutes later.

Mike walked down and stood behind him before he realized someone was there. “I don't think you're a student,” he droned.

“I'm coming back to get an update to my previous degree,” he joked. Ryan smiled and kissed him for a few seconds. “Are we still going, or are you occupied by anything?”

“Nope, just a stack of papers to grade.” Grabbing his materials for the class, he motioned to head over to an administrative building and heading in to get the rest. A few other professors and teaching assistants nodded and waved to them as they headed up to the small office he had been given. Making sure he had all of it, he turned to Mike. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, allowing himself to reach out for Ryan. Holding hands, he felt better than he had all week. Book and biology explanations didn't compare to the actual experience of feeling himself calm and steady with his alpha next to him.

-

The twentieth week sonogram turned into the twenty-one and a half week. Mike was showing no matter what shirt he was wearing. Even his baggiest shirt wasn't hiding it. Ryan enjoyed coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around, rubbing the bump.

Several of the omegas greeted him when he entered the waiting room. He had gone to a Cyclosup failure support group near Fredericksburg. His pregnancy announced to the world at large, he was known already by several of them. The knowledge that his batch had failed spread to the papers as well, and he became a face to the problem. Millope had tried contacting him, hoping to delay a suit. Theodore Plouskey himself had tried arriving to the BAU, only to be waylaid by Derek Morgan and Hotchner while Garcia and Reid hid him in the tech woman's room.

He doesn't know how the main unit found out about David, but he was glad he didn't have to deal with the man.

Settled with Ryan at his side, he found the exact magazine he read last time and decided to switch to his phone to keep up with emails and texts from work. After a few minutes of constantly streaming omegas and alphas going back, he heard his name being called and Ryan grabbed his attention before heading back.

“All right, same as before,” the doctor directed. “It's not really a necessary question, but several of the suppressant affected omegas have had strange cravings. Most pregnancies have their share, but some have gone beyond what I've seen. Anything like that?”

“I crave extremely spicy tacos and caramel on top of all my desserts?” he mentioned.

“Hmm,” he pondered, “The examples I was think was more ordinary objects being coveted for food. Anything like that?”

He shook his head, getting on the chair. “No.”

“All right.” He brought out the ultrasound gel and Mike raised his shirt so it could be applied. After a few seconds, he settled on the head. “Nothing appears to be wrong. Would you like to know the gender?” They both agreed to yes, and he maneuvered it so they could see. “Healthy boy.” 

Ryan grinned and looked down at Mike. “Healthy guy,” he murmured. He smiled back up at him.

Finished, he told him to set up another appointment, mainly for a blood check and another round of questioning. Mike checked his upcoming days to coordinate with their schedule and appointment times. While he was on his phone, Garcia decided to send him an alert. Wondering why, he went into the waiting room and ask those there if he could check out the news.

He ignored what the reporter was saying in favor of the headline. **Exec Son Arrested, Part of Alpha Group that Sabotaged Cyclosup.** They showed David being led away by Peter Burke while several of his agents were entering his home and bringing out boxes. He smiled at the news, and he didn't have to explain to Ryan when they walked out.

_Ryan was over him, naked as he was. His legs were around his hips, trying to force him faster as he could feel his cock sliding in and out of his hole. “Please,” Mike begged, reaching up for him._

_He leaned down so they were chest and chest, feeling his labored breathing.. “Not yet,” he taunted, earning a drawn out whine from him as he continued his slow pace. He mapped out his pulse point as he traveled along his neck, kissing every few seconds and finally resting at the meeting of his collar bone. He sucked, developing a dark hickey._

_“Ryan,” he groaned, urging him to go faster and harder._

_“Mine,” he growled, biting down on the hickey. Mike yelled as he picked up the pace. He finally felt the edges of his orgasm coming._

“Mike,” Ryan called out, shaking him awake. He started and saw they were at home.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, feeling at that moment the orgasm that never came. _Fuck, it's like I'm fifteen again._ He carefully got out and walked up, planning on hiding in the bathroom and just jerking himself off.

Inside, Ryan wrapped around him, hands resting at the edge of his pants. “Upstairs?” he whispered, breath tickling his neck.

He gasped, “Yes.” They raced up, losing their clothes along the way. The bedroom saw the last piece of clothing drop as Mike pushed Ryan on the bed and started attacking his mouth. He started grinding against him, just trying to get some release.

Flipped over on his back, he moaned at the loss of friction. “Not yet,” he grumbled, reaching over to the drawer and pulling out a couple of items. He leaned down over Mike, mouth next to his ear. “You're horny. Like it's high school all over again and you're getting hard at each body that bumps into you.” He moaned, as a hand touched him, sliding up and down with newly added lube. “That's what you were thinking. Just jack yourself off.”

“Fuck, yes,” he panted, driving up into the hand.

There was a kiss just below his ear and a laugh. “That wouldn't last for long. You would've been hard with in an hour.”

There was finally a last twist of the hand before he let go. Mike reached out and got a hold of his arms, forcing him down. “Go back.”

He hummed, “No.” Then he felt a finger tracing his hole. He breathed hard and buried his head in Ryan's neck when the finger entered. “This is what you need. Something in you, filling you. And your dildo's out of batteries, so the vibration function's out.” They stayed in position while he worked in the second, then the third. Each finger made Mike gasp, pant, made him rock back on them.

“Fuck me,” he begged, the third moving around and hitting his prostate, “Fuck me. Stop teasing me, Ryan, fuck me!” He got his wish when the fingers left and he moved around to get a better angle. Then he felt the slicked, rubber covered cock push in. “Shit,” he hissed, wrapping his legs around to urge him forward. He drew himself out and moved back in, establishing a slow and steady pace.

It was driving Mike crazy. He whined to try and force him to go faster. Ryan passed one of his hands over his chest, right on top of the lingering scar of the stab wound. His breath caught. “Go too fast, and neither of us will be satisfied,” he muttered, going slightly faster. He rubbed the scar, tracing it with a finger before following it with his mouth, kissing it gently.

After a few minutes, he started moving faster again. He was getting close to his orgasm and needed to bring Mike over. Mentally checking to make sure he didn't knot within him, he started jerking him off. The only noises were moans and grunts as Mike fell over, splattering himself. He then made sure he was out when he ejaculated in the condom, feeling the beginnings of his knot swelling.

He then collapsed on the bed, waiting for his cock to go down before he could take the condom on. Mike tried twice to sit up before finally managing it and heading into the bathroom. He grabbed a washcloth and cleaned himself off before rinsing it well and bringing it out for Ryan. “Thanks,” he mumbled, wiping down what he could before taking off the condom with some trouble and cleaning there as well. Mike threw it back at the sink before settling down next to him. “Should get you something to eat.”

“Later,” he croaked, coughing to clear his throat, “Sleep now.” He curled up with his back facing Ryan, who then took the opportunity to curl up around him. One hand landed on the bump, another joining it and entwining between the fingers.


	4. Third Trimester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extreme growth phase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The muses are back. And I don't have writing deadlines.

At twenty-five weeks, he was just starting the extreme growth phase. Most of the professional work clothes he brought wouldn't even fit any more. Gratefully, he hadn't been called out for showing up in black stretch pants and a large shirt to cover. He knew he was going to be asked on pregnancy leave soon. Hotchner was probably holding off until he felt that Mike couldn't absolutely do anything in the office without too much distraction. He predicted that would happen at roughly thirty-five weeks.

The alphas also toned down their mocking. Peter had called Mike while he was in the office to inform him that David had gotten a hold of his former apartment address, knew about his dog and had planned on forcibly bonding with him during the heat before possibly kidnapping him and heading to a non-extradition country. When it had been released on the news and gotten around the office, the alphas shut down, rarely talking or acknowledging him unless they had to due to work. Apparently, finding out your favorite bullied victim had been the target of an alpha stalking put a damper on their joy.

“Ow,” he muttered, looking down at his stomach. The fetus, _I might as well just call him a baby_ , kicked him again as he went a little slower than normal getting down to the kitchen. “Hey, I'm still using these organs.” There was another painful kick, but it didn't hit anything. He carefully took the stairs.

Breakfast was quick, although his craving of Dijon mustard and apples inside an omelet hadn't gone away. Scattered on the table were color choices for the nursery, which was going to be done by Jason and Ryan this weekend. He had two colors picked out, a royal purple and a true blue that he was going test swatch over the next couple of days.

At work, he was approached by Mitchell, Garcia and Jareau, JJ, while he was going through the last of the latest tips on cult members. “Why do I feel like I'm cornered?” he questioned.

“Because you are,” Blake mentioned, coming up behind him.

“So, we were wondering, with the new house...” Garcia started.

“When are you going to have the baby shower?” Mitchell interrupted.

He sighed. _I should have thought about that earlier._ “I have no idea. I'm still trying to decide about the nursery,” he told them, “God, and I'll have to think about inviting my brothers, their wives. Mom.” _Ryan's sister, his niece._ “I don't have a clue.”

“Plan a date soon,” JJ suggested, “People are getting restless.” 

“Mainly, us,” Garcia piped up. They ended up walking off when Rossi walked by, commenting on gossiping school girls.

_Great. Everyone wants a baby shower._ A small hand pressed to the outside wall and he laid his over it. He noted it down, looking at a calendar before going back to the tips.

-

Mike was glad for Casey. He really was. When he went to visit Jason at his diner, she had been going over a case with him. He mentioned that a baby shower would have to be planned. Jason volunteered to make snacks, but she shot him down, stating that his unique sense of taste would likely not be appreciated. She then started asking about the amount of people that were likely to show up. After getting through the FBI side, the two started arguing over who to invite. Mike didn't want his mother making a scene over his terrible decisions, but Jason pointed out they wanted their parents involved with their lives.

She helped him plan for the shower, which was a lot more than he knew about. He figured that diapers, formula and clothes would be some of the stuff people would bring, but she brought up other items, like a crib, car seat. The list was then printed up and sent out to the people he was planning on arriving. The BAU women promised to try showing up, cases permitting. His mother already planned on heading out for the last week of his pregnancy, now she just lengthened her stay. His brother's wives planned on sending him things, but neither really knew him well enough to drop their jobs and come out.

At thirty-three weeks, with ten pounds gained quickly, Hotchner finally approached him about going on leave. He managed to get one more week, which went by fast for him. The weekend after the start of maternity leave, he woke up early in order to prepare the foods that weren't made the previous night and get ready for the onslaught of people coming to the baby shower.

Ryan had come down to spend time with him. He helped out with some of the food, but ended up thrown out by his relatives when they arrived. About an hour after, the FBI girls, plus Spencer Reid, showed up with their gifts and diapers. They settled down in the living room and he heard Jenny talking about some of the stuff at her restaurant.

The next doorbell had him mentally preparing himself as he opened the door to his mother, Jason and Casey. “Hi,” he greeted.

“Hey, baby brother,” Jason teased, wrapping him up in a one-armed hug before walking in with his gifts. Casey patted him a couple of times before joining the others.

He turned around to his mother, who was inspecting the house and seeing everything. _Please don't criticize everything. Don't berate my choices. Please, not now._ He could see her wanted to say something about the state of it, but she kept her thoughts to herself. “Let's go join everyone in the living room,” she said, walking ahead of him. He sighed, rubbing his bump. _Thank you._

Casey had suggested a few games. The FBI agents had extra knowledge of his conception date, so it wasn't fair to the others to guess when his due date was. The string around the stomach was embarrassing, and his mother won with JJ in second. At that point, it descended into gossip, with a couple of the BAU girls talking with Max and Casey and Mitchell had roped Reid and Jenny into another discussion. The last was his mother and Vicky.

Then he realized Jason had disappeared. He looked over at the snacks to make sure he wasn't making something unusual. That's when he realized the presents had slowly started migrating over to his seat. He saw the culprit standing over at the side, holding the next bags. “Hey, I thought it would be a good idea,” he motioned, waving the bags in his hand.

“Oo, yes,” Garcia agreed, everyone turning their attention to Mike.

He sighed before reaching for some of the closer items. The first one was apparently JJ's as he pulled out boys clothes and a sling to put the baby in. He laughed at the design on it before placing it aside and getting through the rest. A car seat, more clothes, toys, two baby bags and portable changing area with one before he got to his mother's present. Carefully, he unwrapped a large box to see a new homemade baby blanket nested inside.

“You actually...” he mumbled, holding it up. His mother hadn't been a fan of Ryan, and was vocal about it. Mike thought she still figured he deserved someone 'better' but she made baby blankets for both his brothers' wives and she approved of them, so the fact that she made this meant she approved of either him or their partnership.

“Oh,” Jason motioned, surprised as well. 

He stood up and hugged her in her seat. “Thank you,” he whispered. She didn't say anything, just patted his back.

The rest of the shower went peacefully, and everyone went home, with his mother staying in the newly done spare bedroom. Ryan had been allowed to come back, and after eating some of the leftover food, joined him in the bedroom, getting ready to sleep. The crib they had picked out was sitting in the corner with several of the baby gifts received, the blanket laid out on the mattress. Mike was beginning all the Thank You notes, getting addresses and names completely write before he would have to dedicate the next day to them. “Any problems?” Ryan asked, Mike settling down next to him.

He shook his head, lightly leaning on him. “I think Mom might approve,” he said softly, “She made a blanket. She only does that if she approves of who we're with.”

“Your mother may be okay with us?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I guess.” The baby started kicking then, so he brought Ryan's hand to the general area and settled down. “I'm glad I don't have to fight her about this anymore.”

Ryan hummed, putting down the paper he was reading and switched so he was curling around, his occupied hand rubbing the area. “Probably all the media around Plouskey and the trial. Finally seeing what a jackass he is.” He kissed lightly before turning off the light. “Sleep.” He turned downward. “That goes for you, too.” Mike chuckled before falling to sleep.

-

His mother caught him.

One of the things Mike read up on was 'nesting,' pregnant people that rearranged the furniture to make things better, somehow. Normally, he didn't rearrange his furniture unless he was performing his twice a year cleaning. Everything would be put back into place after he did that. He hit thirty-six weeks and starting thinking the house needed to be changed around. He changed around the nursery and never got it completely right. While trying to figure out where to put the changing table and crib, he became annoyed at the living room and started switching everything around. Once he had that in an arrangement he felt okay with, the dining room was his next target.

It lasted over a week, close to his thirty-eighth. He was going back over the living room when his mother came down with her purse to go shopping. He stood up and hoped that she didn't know what he was doing. She sighed. “Oh, honey, not again.” He dropped his head, realizing not only she had caught him, she knew about the other times. “Being inside will only make this worse. Come with me. Get dressed for the outside and we'll go.”

Mike took fifteen minutes to get some pants and a shirt on before finding the slip on shoes that he needed after trying, and failing, to get his Converse on before heading downstairs. There was a list of things that the couple needed, so he grabbed his phone with that and his wallet before making sure he was ready to leave.

Once they pulled up to the grocery story, he headed inside and went to the bathroom, again, before rejoining his mother. The problem with depression of the bladder in the later months. “My prescription should already be done, but I'll go check on it.”

“All right, I'll meet you in near the bread aisle.” The two separated and Mike walked slowly, pushing a cart in front of him while gathering the items up to the aisle. His phone went off, attracting a couple of glances before he answered. “Weston.”

“Agent Weston. Peter Burke,” the man on the other side said, “Look, are you someplace safe? At home or at Quantico?”

“No, why....”

“Plouskey's been out on bail with travel restrictions and not allowed contact with any omegas affected by the sabotage. He disappeared two days ago. No one's been able to contact him. He's left his cell phone and money behind.”

Mike started worrying. “He disappeared?”

“We just found a new file on you. He knows your new address, Hardy's teaching schedule, when you left for leave. His father was helping him put everything together.”

He put it together quickly. He hated what he was thinking. “What's his plan?”

“That he took with him. You need to get someplace safe,” Peter directed. “I contacted the BAU to find out where you are. A couple of their agents are going over to your house to check and watch.” He frowned, hating the idea that he needed protection. “We're picking up Ryan Hardy, heading down to Richmond to stay with you.”

“You're hoping he'll attempt something. Kidnapping or killing me?”

“Yeah, that's what we're thinking.”

“All right,” he said, forcibly calming himself down. “My mother's with me at the moment, she's been staying in the house. Expect three, possibly more. My brother's in New York and he might come down with his partner, both NYPD.”

“Noted, we'll pass that on to the agents.”

Ending the call, Mike hurried and got everything on his list before going to the bread. Impatient, he made sure he was ready to check out. His mother walked down within five minutes, grabbing a loaf of the bread she liked. “What is the matter with you?” she asked.

“How much do you have to get?”

“A couple of more items,” she said.

He made her rush through getting the stuff before hurrying through the lines before going back out to the car. While they were loading, a dark SUV type car pulled up beside them. Plouskey got out of the back with a gun. He didn't even bother with talking, just wrapped an arm around his neck and pointing the gun at his mother. She gasped, staring at the weapon. “Mom, don't worry,” he said, only slight wavering at the end, “Get back home, I have a couple of friends coming over.”

“Shut up,” the man growled, pulling him back to the car. Mike was forced into the backseat and to the other side so he couldn't escape. Plouskey got back in and the driver sped off. 

His hands were cuffed above his head to a bar that normally wouldn't be there. Looking at the front, he expected the driver to be some sort of hired help. Instead, he was surprised to see Emma Hill, who looked gleeful at the fact he was there. _Goddamnit._ “You fucking b-” he hissed, before a gag was forced in his mouth and tied.

“Don't worry, Agent Weston,” she gloated, a bag forced over his head. “Everything's going to be just fine.”

-

Ryan had just finished a class, wasn't even dismissed, when Peter Burke walked and pulled him out. “Who the hell are you?” he asked.

“Agent Peter Burke, White Collar division,” he introduced, “Your partner, Mike Weston, gave me information on David Plouskey that we used to have him arrested for the Cyclosup Sabotage. He's been out on bail for the last week, but disappeared two days ago. We just found information that he was planning to kidnap Weston.”

“Is Mike safe?”

He shook his head. “No. His mother called the police, said that Plouskey pulled up and grabbed him.” 

He had to strengthen himself mentally while still following down to a car parked outside. “Any ideas where he would be taking Mike?”

“We're thinking his parents bought a temporary hiding place, going through their financials right now. That's not my major concern.” He started driving once they were both inside the car. “There are searches on their computers about non-extradition countries.”

He stared at the windshield. “He's planning on taking him where the U.S. can't follow.”

“Yeah, that's what we're assuming. We're thinking after Agent Weston gives birth, so that way they can be flown out quickly.”

“Shit.”

The White Collar unit was busy, each agent trying to connect a piece that would find Plouskey and Mike. Ryan was allowed to sit in Peter's office while the man tried working with others to go through everything. He wasn't an agent, and wasn't an expert. He could barely see the files that were scattered around. He felt useless. Grading papers was off until he could stabilize his train of thought. He went through a couple of his emails before getting discouraged and shutting down the app.

He made his way to the bathroom to calm himself down as much as he could. Throwing water on his face, he kept his hands there to block everything out. _Mike's going to be fine. He's going to be fine._ He flung droplets back down into the skin and grabbed a couple of paper towels to dry off. Standing back up, he brought down his hands and looked in the mirror.

Debra was behind him.

He stared. She was dead, couldn't get to her in time. She was still wearing the clothes she was murdered in. They were even dirty with the ground as they found her. Unable to speak, she simply held up a police sketch. The figure looked like Emma Hill. He blinked and counted from five before opening his eyes. She wasn't there when he looked back.

Rushing out of the bathroom, he made it back to the White Collar unit and to Peter. “Was Plouskey alone?” he asked.

Peter shook his head. “No, Weston's mother reported a woman in the front seat.” He dug around for the sketch that they barely got out of her.

It was the same one that Parker had held up in the bathroom. “That's Emma Hill,” he confirmed.

“Why would she be helping Plouskey out?” Agent Jones, one of Peter's team, asked.

“Because she hates me. Her mentor's dead because of me. She's doing this to get back at me. Lose my child and my partner.”

“So, it's possible she's using the cult connections to hide him and Weston,” Agent Barrigan, Diana, said, playing the thoughts out.

Ryan nodded. “The cult had former military and others involved. They could have a doctor somewhere that would be able to deliver the baby.” Peter started having junior agents pull up everything they could on airfields, both public and private and roads that could be used as a landing strip. They used those as a reference to look at nearby buildings. Abandoned and in use, ones that could be a sterile environment for delivery.

They were focused on scanning for activity that when Ryan's phone went off, he barely registered the blocked number before answering. “Hardy,” he answered automatically.

“I don't particularly agree with what Emma has done, Ryan. Remember that,” the voice on the other end said, recognized but supposedly dead, “It's a private airfield. Tryese's Travels, New York state. There's an office building within the town that has a clinic. He's there.” The other end of the call ended as soon as it began.

He was frozen before being shaken out by Peter. “Tryese's Travels for the airport. There's a clinic in the town. That's where Mike is.”

“How do you know?”

“I was just told by,” he paused, “A Follower. Someone that doesn't agree with Emma.”

He didn't particularly agree with his lie, but he didn't question it. After searching the town, they identified the building and started looking for connections in order to get the necessary warrants to enter the building. It was taking too long. Ryan had to go back and sit in the office again to keep himself from rushing out and getting Mike back himself. He instead thought about why someone, or possibly Joe himself, revealing that he was alive, decided to rat out his current 'Friend.'

-

He started touching him about thirty minutes into the drive.

Knowing that Emma Hill was assisting the asshole didn't help Mike's nerves. He felt all of his things being taken off of him. The cellphone was broken, he heard. The hand gliding over his stomach made him jump, which made the man hold him in place so he could continue stroking. He couldn't do anything, which made him anxious. “This should have been mine,” he muttered, “My seed, my child.”

His emotions started getting out of control, and there were tears that he tried to hold back and stop. He ground his teeth on the rag to keep himself from whining or whimpering. _Stress is not good for the baby. Calm down. Calm down._ He tried some of the techniques that they told pregnant male omegas for birthing. He went through as much of the FBI handbook as he remembered. Mike started in on his favorite songs when he finally felt the man moving away, apparently bored or needing to do something else. He kept going though, needing to keep calm.

He didn't know how long it actually was when he felt them coming to a stop. They exited the car first before someone came over to his side and unlocked the handcuffs before guiding him out. They weren't replaced, but he had a person on each side keeping him from taking off the bag and gag. Muttered orders had him through a door and into a room that he couldn't see. He heard all of them leave before taking off the bag and forcing the rag out.

Mike's first concern was to erase the feeling of Plouskey's hands over his stomach. The baby started moving to let him know it was okay. “At least you knew he wasn't your father,” he whispered, “And thank you for not doing that for him.”

Looking around, he saw that it was a recovery suite, outfitted for him. Clothes, books. No TV, which he wasn't surprised by. There was a bathroom with a shower and bathtub put together. He even knew Mike's preferred brand of shampoos and body wash. There also wasn't a door and the shower curtain was clear. “Fuck. Goddamn fucking pervert with boundary and control issues.” He went through the books. Most were popular fiction, Stephen King and Harry Potter. There was also a few language books. Spanish, Latina, Portuguese. “I hope that's not a signal on what's he's planning.”

There was a small refrigerator and a small selection of snacks on a table. Paranoia kept him from touching any of it. Instead, he sat down on the bed. “Keep calm. Don't worry. They'll come soon. Ryan will come get us back soon. He'll probably kill a few people along the way,” he said to himself, mostly, “Hopefully wound David so he won't try again.”

With no watch or clock to tell him time, the person arriving with food surprised him. It was someone he didn't recognize, holding a plate with white fish, rice and asparagus. It was set on the table before he was left again. 

He didn't want to eat. Mike didn't trust it, but this was probably the only thing he was going to get for a while. Checking the small refrigerator, there were closed bottles of water and juices. He took a water and grabbed the plate before sitting and eating it slowly. 

He placed it back on the table and kept away from the door when the deliverer came back. “Mr. Plouskey would like to inform you that there is a second serving waiting if this wasn't enough. Otherwise, there are berries and whipped cream for dessert.”

“I'm fine, thank you,” Mike said, wondering about the quick service. _There's probably a camera in here and the bathroom. I'll have to be careful over what I do._ The man left and he was alone again. He sucked down the rest of the water before throwing it in a trash can conveniently beside his bed.

Mike raised the bed so he wasn't lying down, the pressure hurting his lower back. He settled a hand over the bump and tried to remember where he left off. “What did you like?” He tried remember his playlist and came up with a song. _“It's a godawful small affair. To the girl with the mousy hair. And her daddy has told her to go,”_ he softly sung. “Wait, I skipped a line. This is why I need the music playing when I try singing. Your father would have heckled me for that.”

He heard a laugh. _That sounded like Parker._ Surprised, he sat up and looked around. Something brushed over his shoulder, and he thought he saw Parker standing by him. That's when the first pains hit. “No.” He looked down at his chest and the bump and felt another pain shoot through. “Not now. Oh god, not now.”

-

Ryan had to fight to be allowed to go with the agents. Peter was not Parker, and although he knew about being protective over Mike, he wasn't as lenient as she was. It took several minutes of arguing and relenting points for him to be given a vest, no gun, and allowed to ride along with Barrigan.

It took two hours to get to the town. Ryan told them not to trust locals on the ground, Havenport and Duchess County cautious reminders. The locals were told to keep to their normal jobs while they performed a raid. Outside of the clinic, Jones was the one to deliver the warrants to search and arrest who was on site. Peter's team went first, finding several conspirators. “No Emma Hill,” he reported, “Theodore left before we got here.”

He nodded. “Probably warned.”

Diana walked forward. “The clinic has five rooms, all are empty. Everything's accounted for,” she said. “But, Doctor Lonstrom advertised eight a few years ago. We're looking for the space that they should be.” They went down the recovery hallway. Ryan picked up faint amounts of Mike's scent. Looking around, he checked the rooms, trying to see if they were connected. Jones was the one to spot the fake wall, breaking the cover for the door before opening and going ahead. 

Mike was freaking out when Plouskey came in. He heard the noises and the calls of FBI going around, which was good, but he was pretty sure that he was going into labor. If the pains he kept experiencing were labor pains, then he was going to have his system flushed and he was going to be delivering soon. He did not want to do that here. _There is no fucking way I'm having the baby here with that asshole around._

The other man forced him up and dragged him about three inches before something flew and hit him in the head. “What the hell?” he yelled, bringing the agents attention. Mike backed up to keep a space between all of them so they could arrest him and get him out.

The next person to walk in was Ryan. Neither talked as the man physically checked Mike over as well as he could before hugging him tightly. He inhaled the pheromones coming off him and hoped that his own would settle Mike.

Unfortunately, that wouldn't happen. There was another sharp spike and he groaned in pain. “Mike?”

“I really hope these are the false ones,” he said, teeth gritted together.

“False... Contractions?” He barely nodded, before another spike nearly drove him to the ground, making him whine in pain to keep the scream back.

Ryan turned back to Peter. “Where's the nearest hospital?”

“Not far, and the EMTs are still outside.”

He nodded, “All right, come on, Mike. We'll get outside and get you to a hospital.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oo, Emma, you in trouble.


	5. Delivery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I changed my original plan from detailing the labor to not detailing the labor. But there might be some things that sneak in._

They barely got to the hospital in the next town before Mike's system flushed. He felt horrified over the mess that was created, but the nurses and doctor didn't blink an eye. They cleaned up quickly before switching him into a gown and getting him into a specialty delivery room for male omegas. Ryan was forced to wear scrubs and a mask before being allowed to stay next to him. Mike immediately grabbed onto him when he got close enough.

“How can this more painful than a military trained killer beating me up?” he complained, a spike going through his entire body.

“I don't know,” he said, trying not to wince at the grip of Mike's hands. “How does it compare to the stabbing?”

“This lasts longer.” He screamed at a particularly large contraction. Ryan shook his head to try and stop the ringing in his ears. He saw a couple of nurses give them confusing stares over their conversation, but kept up in arranging things and keeping track of vitals. “Sorry.”

“It's fine,” he said, “I haven't lost hearing yet.”

The doctor had been talking to his normal obstetrician. After finding out about the suppressants, he voted to watch exactly what they tried in pain relief. Namely, none. “All right, I'm Doctor Lunning,” he introduced quickly. “Let's hope this goes quickly for everyone's sake.” 

It took a few hours for the baby to come into view. Everyone was encouraging around Mike. He almost passed out a couple of times from the pain, but managed to stay awake with a little prodding. “Okay, I'm starting to see the head. Important time, gentle pushing to coax him out.”

“There is no such thing,” Mike grunted, trying to remember the tips from classes but just pushing like one would for something else.

“A couple of major pushes to get the head out,” he said reassuringly. 

He looked like he was about to yell at the doctor, but Ryan stopped him. “Come on, you're almost there and you haven't even threatened to never have sex again.”

He laughed, “I would never be able to fulfill that threat.” He screamed again.

“Keep pushing.”

“I know!” Mike yelled. Ryan started laughing and was hit. “Shut up!”

A major contraction went through his body forcing him to scream again. “We're close to the head coming out,” Lunning said.

“You said that fifteen minutes ago!” he said angrily.

“Just keep going, Mike,” Ryan distracted. “Keep going. You know the biology of this. The head's the biggest part. Once that's out, the body will be quick to follow and a hard part's over.”

He panted, “A hard part?”

“There's also raising him and making sure he doesn't knock someone up at sixteen.”

Mike got out a couple of laughs before contracting. His scream was drowned out by a high pitched wailing as soon as the baby's head came out. The doctor guided the rest of the body out along with the next contraction. A nurse helped cut the cord before they walked off to clean and completely check their son over. “Don't worry, you'll be able to see him in a few minutes,” he said, before directing to the next part, “Within twenty to thirty minutes, the placenta is going to come out. You need to keep standing until that comes out.”

Weakened, he could only nod when the doctor said that. Ryan bent closer, keeping an eye on their child before asking, “Do you want to keep the placenta?” Mike glared at him. “I heard it's supposed to be loaded with nutrients.” He hit his arm. “Ow. That's a no?”

“Yeah, that's a no,” he said, panting slightly.

Forty minutes later, Mike was completely cleaned and lying on a bed in a room couple of doors down from delivery. A nurse wheeled in their son, cleaned and dressed in pastel blue. Ryan carefully lifted him out and held him for a couple of minutes before setting him in Mike's arms and grabbing the nearest chair. The two just watched the little bundle as it started to move a little. “Have you thought about names?” Ryan asked, holding one of the little hands with a finger.

“I could only think of the first one,” he said, “Parker.”

He nodded. The man figured he would find someway to honor the woman that did a lot for them. “Yeah, that's.... that's perfect.” Their son seemed receptive to his first name, moving a little more and opening his eyes to see his parents. “Raymond isn't a great fit for middle.”

“Your Dad's name?”

He shook his head. “No.”

They watched him for a few more minutes, trying to figure out a middle name that fit. “Can I be a geek and give him Peter?” Mike asked.

Ryan chuckled, “Only if you get the brunt of the anger later.” He thought about one of his ideas and the memory connecting it. “Your former partner, Riley, caught me and gave me a warning about approaching you.”

The younger man smiled. “Did that with a lot of the alphas.”

It took him a minute to fully decide. “Parker Riley Weston-Hardy,” he said.

That surprised him. He didn't know that Ryan held his late partner in a high enough regard to use his name. That and the fact Ryan put his last name first. “Are you sure?”

“Parker Troy doesn't have the same ring to it. And he deserves to have your name first.” Parker moved a little more to confirm his liking the name. “He agrees.”

There was a knock at their door. They looked up to see Mrs. Weston along with Jason and Casey. “You were supposed to wait,” Casey fake complained, walking in to greet them. Jason and their Mom were the ones to reach out with permission after Ryan pulled his hand back so they could get closer.

“Decide on a name?” Jason asked, knowing a little about the struggle to come up with a name.

“Parker Riley,” he said.

Casey and Jason both realized the importance of the first name, if not the second. Mrs. Weston didn't. “After Spiderman, Michael, really?”

The two smiled at the little joke they had earlier. “Mom, Parker was the name of the female agent that died,” Jason corrected. The woman was suitably taken back. “Riley?”

“Partner with the BAU. He was one of the first officer deaths during the Carroll investigation.” Mike yawned, the baby mimicking him a couple of seconds later. “I think both of us need naps.”

“It's been a long day,” Ryan said, taking Parker and setting him back in the wheeled cart. A nurse walked him away and Ryan followed to watch over him. Once safely in the nursery, he went back to see the three standing outside, Mike asleep on the bed.

“We have some of the basics for Parker. His car seat, a change in clothes.”

He nodded along. “Should find out if he needs a special formula.” Ryan walked in the room and kissed Mike on the cheek before whispering what he was doing before leaving with the group.

-

Six long weeks of waking up to cries of hunger and dirty diapers had Mike and Ryan falling asleep when they were together. Mike was right now at the FBI, planning on working out a couple of more weeks at home if he could complete cases there. Ryan was in class, which amused students when they saw him with throw up stains and even more tired eyes than ususual. Several wanted to see their baby and he was thinking of once Mike bringing Parker up when he was a little more stable around people.

Almost falling asleep in the elevator cart, it shook Mike back awake and he walked in with a sleeping Parker and a bag of baby things. He was instantly spotted by the women of the main group, and Reid. Garcia texted someone and they crowded around Mike and Parker when he stopped at his desk. “Oh, he is adorable,” she cooed.

“Only when he's sleeping,” Mike said, tiredness bleeding out.

“Waking you up at night?” JJ asked.

“Yeah.”

They continued watching over him until Hotchner came back with Rossi and Morgan. “Weston,” he said, pulling him away. Once last look and he was walking behind the man up to his office. “The plan is for you to return next week?”

“I was actually wondering if I could get a couple more weeks. I'll do cases from home.”

“You can't get a sitter?”

“We, we're still going through applications. Thorough backgrounds checks on all of them.”

The older man nodded. “The most that the FBI will do is eight weeks. After that, you'll have to be put back on the roster.”

He knew that. It was just nice to get a confirmation on it. “Thank you, sir.”

“What did you name him?” he asked.

“Parker Riley,” he recited.

He nodded and pulled out the paperwork he would need to extend the leave. “Enjoy it while you can.”

“Thank you.”

They walked out to see Mitchell entertaining a now awake Parker. He laughed at a face she made before Mike made it down to check on him. “Nothing wrong?”

“Nope, no noxious smells and he doesn't want food.”

“Then I'd better get him out of here before he starts getting cranky and does.” The group all said their byes before he walked back out. Parker started fidgeting when he buckled him in. “What's wrong?” he asked. Mike checked to make sure nothing was lose or tight before smelling it. He sighed. “You couldn't have done that inside?”

Ryan came home for the weekend to see Mike lying on the couch with the baby on top of him, both sleeping. He carefully moved around to not wake him up before setting up at the dining room table working on his grading. About an hour and part way through, someone knocked on their door, alerting Mike to his company. “When did you get here?” he muttered, yawning in between words.

“About an hour ago, I'll get the door,” he said, pulling it open and seeing a delivery woman standing there. “Yeah?”

“Ryan Hardy. Right. Just sign here.” A clipboard was thrust at him and he signed where one would sign before being handed a long floral box. He thanked the person and walked it into the kitchen, planning on a vase for whatever flowers they were. Ryan took off the card and read the message that was sent. 

_Enjoy your son, Ryan._

He almost tossed them both into the trash before Mike walked in with a still sleeping Parker. “Who sent it?” he asked.

_'Joe.'_ Ryan didn't want to invoke that idea, so he said, “Probably one of the remaining acolytes.” Mike looked worried at it, but he reassured him. “This one wouldn't hurt Parker. I swear.” Mike just nodded and handed Parker to a willing Ryan before getting started on dinner. He stared down at the card before sliding it into a pocket. _I always knew, Joe. What are you playing at?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! I'm done. Thank you for reading.


End file.
